Chapter Thirteen Ellie
My nerves went off the charts as I stood before my new husband in the naughty bit of silk and lace Meredith had given me as a wedding gift.
I couldn’t wear a bra beneath my dress. It had built-in cups. But the black lace thong and garter belt, complete with silk, thigh high stockings were something else.
I’d been worried they’d dig into my thick thighs or roll down halfway. But these seemed made for women like me.
Bigger women with meat on their bones.
I’d worried maybe this was too much. Like maybe it was foolish to assume he wanted to have sex with me on our wedding night.
Even though he already told me he did want that.
He wanted me.
I could see it in his stormy gaze. Appreciation for my curves, lust glittering in his irises.
I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.
I mean why would someone as sinfully sexy as Andres Ramirez want me? Almost every time I’d seen him, I’d been frumpy.
What mother of a preschool aged son wouldn’t be?
Usually dressed in jeans and t-shirts, I did my best to be clean, but fashion wasn’t something I worried about much anymore. I didn’t have to be stylish to take care of Sammy.
Andres was very stylish, though. He was always wearing tailored slacks and button downs or fitted polo shirts. His hard body was evident beneath the expensive clothes he wore.
Like the other husbands, he wore suits almost every day. I supposed it was for work, but goddamn, he always looked so good.
This was the first time I felt like his equal in that arena. Not that he ever complained or said anything about how I dressed.
My assets were all tied up in court, so I couldn’t afford to go shopping even if I wanted to. But right then, I didn’t feel like anything less.
I felt desired.
Wanted.
And that was something new. I wasn’t down on myself, but I was a realist. I had a mirror, and I knew what my body looked like.
But it was more than obvious Andres liked what he saw.
Watching him stare at me as I stood there practically naked, like I was something beautiful and worthy of his desire, was amazing.
Suddenly, I lost my inhibitions.
I took a step towards him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. How it increased with every step I took.
Just like mine.
Emboldened, I continued. Letting him look his fill at my imperfections, and owning every jiggle and bounce of my soft flesh I knew was on display.
I didn’t stop until I was right in front of him, almost touching, but not quite.
“Ellie,” he growled my name.
Andres’ eyes stayed locked on mine for a beat before dropping to take in every inch of my curvy frame. I sucked in a breath, and it was enough to cause my bare breasts to brush against the fabric of his shirt.
The sensation had a gasp leaving my mouth before I could stop it.
That sound was the whistle Andres was waiting for to make his move. And it was just what I needed him to do.
Big, warm hands reached for me. At the same time, he lowered his head, claiming my lips in a kiss that was nothing like the chaste peck he gave me in front of our friends and his mother earlier in the evening when we said our I dos.
“Ellie,” he growled again, saying my name into my mouth, his tongue chasing the words until it was dueling with mine.
I moaned, opening for him as I pressed my body to his. He was so hard and warm. So goddamn sexy in his black tux.
His hands squeezed my hips before moving lower to grab my ass. Then he was pulling me closer, one hand diving between my legs from the back, cupping my hot, needy pussy.
Andres’ chest rumbled, and he lifted me up just like that. One hand squeezing my cheek, the other between my legs.
I gasped, holding onto his shoulders. Then I wrapped my legs around his waist, pressing my core against him.
“Fuck. You’re fucking soaked,” he grunted.
His long fingers were stroking me over the lacy material of my thong as he walked us towards the bedroom.
I’d spent the last couple of days sleeping in the guest bedroom down the hall from his, but all my belongings had been moved the day before.
I knew I’d be sleeping in there with him after the ceremony, but it was still a shock to see my perfume, my hairbrush, my bag of makeup, and other knickknacks on the dresser and lining the shelves.
It should have looked odd, all my feminine clutter inside the utterly masculine space. But it didn’t. It looked right somehow.
I landed on the bed with a little bounce and licked my lips as Andres tore off his shirt and stepped out of his pants. His tented black silk boxers made my fingers itch to touch him.
To touch it.
And I surprised myself, going up on my knees and stretching out my hand to do just that.
“Fuck, that’s it. Touch me, Angel. Feel how hard I am for you? That’s all for you. All yours,” he groaned, crawling up onto the mattress and forcing me to back up before he ran me over.
Not that I’d mind at the moment.
His cock pulsed beneath my searching hand, the silky fabric of his boxers slid up and down as I traced him.
I pulled them down, needing to feel his velvet-covered steel in my grip with no barriers between us.
My pussy contracted on air, arousal spilling down my thighs. I was so fucking hot for this man. Needed him so badly.
“Goddamn, Lupina. So fucking perfect. Lay back. Spread your legs.”
“W-why?”
“Cause I want to taste what’s mine,” he growled, and my eyes rolled back.
I was panting with need at that point, and my body obeyed his command.
I leaned back, not caring about my belly rolls or the way my thighs jiggled when I spread my legs for him.
“So fucking perfect,” Andres growled.
He tugged my thong to the side, revealing my slick sex to his searching gaze. I covered my eyes. Then I dropped my hands.
I wanted to watch him. To see his expression when he tasted me.
Fuck. It felt so naughty to want those things.
But sometimes naughty was nice, right?
“You’re dripping, Lupina,” he moaned.
He actually frigging moaned.
Like I was one of those triple decker chocolate fudge brownies the café on the corner served. I only knew they were good because Meredith’s husband was forever plying her with those decadent desserts.
His head dipped down, bringing him closer, ever closer, to where I needed him. But he stopped just short of the mark.
“Andres,” I moaned, flexing my hips.
“So needy, Wife. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. I will always take care of you, Lupina,” he growled before he pounced.
Holy. Fuck.
Andres closed his hot mouth over my pussy, sucking my clit inside his wet warmth, and I moaned.
Sensation after sensation slammed into me one by one, like a freight train going off the rails.
Pleasure built upon pleasure, colliding into me with such force, my legs shook.
I’d never had a man do what he was doing to me. Eating me with such fervent desire.
“Keep your legs wide,” he commanded, and I fought against the urge to squeeze them shut.
Andres hummed against my sex, his tongue laving at me, and I almost imploded. His sensual assault was relentless, delicious, and fervent.
I had no choice but to hold on and take it.
And I did.
My hands clutched at his short hair, and I lifted my hips, flexing against his mouth, working my body into a frenzy.
“That’s it, Lupina. Take your pleasure from me,” he murmured, making his tongue stiff but not moving.
“Andres,” I moaned, needing more.
Andres lifted his face, his stormy eyes blazing with lust.
“Do it. Fuck my face, and make yourself come,” he growled.
Then he did it again.
Andres made his tongue hard and tight against my clit, one big hand circled my hip holding me tight to him while he speared my pussy with two thick fingers.
I was mindless with need. But I knew what he wanted me to do. And I wanted it, too.
Heat.
So much of it. Dark, dirty, wet heat filled me.
Fueling my desire.
I reached for him, holding his head as I flexed my hips.
Chasing my orgasm, I rocked my core against his face, rubbing my clit on his tongue and loving every second of it.
I couldn’t believe I was really doing that.
That I, Ellie Maxwell, the last person in the world to incite passion in a man, was doing just as my new husband demanded.
Even more unbelievable, I felt incredible.
Powerful. In control. Strong. And sexy.
I never thought I could let go with someone like that.
But I did.
With him.
A long, keening moan spilled from my lips as I fucked my husband’s face.
He was everywhere. He was everything.
Lapping at my cunt. Praising me with his moans. Making me squirm and writhe like a wanton thing.
I came apart harder than ever before.
Sharp shards of pleasure sliced through me, pleasure so powerful it was on the brink of pain, and I knew this was something phenomenal.
This surely wasn’t normal. My reaction to him was not normal.
How could I feel so good because of one person’s attentions?
Never. I never experienced anything like it.
I’d never been the focus of one man’s mission to deliver physical pleasure.
It was foreign. Filthy. And so fucking good.
He made me feel so good.
It was even a little scary, because even though I just came harder than ever before, I wanted to feel it again.
Right now. With him.
I wanted my husband to fuck me. I needed his cock inside me, filling me.
And I was ready to demand it.